A Study in Teenage Sherlock
by costellocostello
Summary: He had a friend once, before John, while he was at school. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

He was sat at a table in the corner, closest to the window and furthest from any other people - even his posture was directed as far away as possible from everyone else. Thick, dark hair hung down in front of his face, as he rested his sharp jaw on his hand, using the long, thin fingers of the other to turn the page every now and again. She sat down opposite him. Nothing in his physicality suggested he'd seen her sit down. He brushed his curled fringe aside with his thumb, and continued reading. She read the title of the page upside down; "The forensic examination of human remains", shrugged, and reached into her bag for her Biology book. Opening her notebook, she turned to the correct page and started working through the set questions, finding the first three reasonably easy, and still without acknowledgement from the boy she shared her table with. At the fourth question, she got stuck. It sounded familiar from the lesson, but she couldn't remember the correct terms, and flipped up the corner of the page, to search back though the book for the answer. "It's the carboxyl group" said the boy, without looking up from his book.

"pardon?"

"'The components of an amino acid are the hydrogen group, acid group, variable region and which other?' it's the carboxyl group"

"I… thanks, how did you-"

"We're in the same biology class, so I know what you're doing. This morning you answered two questions at the start of the lesson, but fell quiet after he started discussing the structure, meaning you understood the properties but found the structure harder. You finished your notes before 70% of the class this morning, so you're a reasonably fast writer, meaning that you'd finish the first 3 questions in 5 minutes, as they were on the properties, so you found them fairly easy. That girl Susie introduced herself to you at the start of the lesson, so you'd clearly never met her before and you didn't speak to her at all after that, but when she dropped her books on the way out you said "sorry, Susie" - you remembered her name without any interaction which shows you have a good memory, at least for words, so without fully understanding the concept you can still remember several of the terms quite easily when prompted- acid, hydrogen and variable are all mentioned on that page which would jog your memory- but carboxyl isn't and without that reminder you couldn't quite remember what that was called. Oh, and you've misspelled deoxyribonucleic, there's an I before that last c" he said, and returned to reading his book without further acknowledgement.

"Wow. How did you _do _that?" she said. He glanced up again, sharp blue-green eyes meeting hers.

"I just told you." he said, with a quick flash of patronising smile, and went back to his book.

"…Would you do the rest of my homework for me?" she asked

"If you pay me." He didn't even look up this time.

"Huh?"

"I do everyone's homework. £5 per sheet, £10 for every thousand words of an essay."

"Oh." she said. She still couldn't see much of his face behind the hair, as he wound one finger through his fringe, eyes still glued to the book.

"Well, never mind then."

"Hmm?"

"I mean, if you're doing everyone else's, I shouldn't trouble you really"

"Oh" he said. He looked surprised. "Uh, ok." the eyes went away from her and back to his book again. "What are you reading?"

"You already know what I'm reading, you read the title upside down."

"That's the title of the page, not the title of the-" He flashed the cover at her for a second "Forensic Science - Second Edition" then dropped the book back to the table, never taking his eyes from the words on the page.

"Huh. Looks interesting." no reply. "Looks difficult." He snorted.

"It's a University textbook. Postgraduate. I should imagine so."

"Hmm. Where'd you get that from?"

"My brother's at University."

"Studying Forensics?"

"Studying Politics. He got it from a friend."

"Which University?"

"Oxford."

"Hmm, clever family. You gonna go there too?" He snorted again.

"Cambridge, obviously. They're better at science, I'm not interested in any of that artsy-fartsy nonsense."

"Oh." they fell silent for a second.

"So… what subjects do you take?" finally he slammed his book closed, glaring at her with cold, pale eyes.

"Has it not occurred to you that I don't really want to talk to you?"

"You don't really talk much, do you?"

"How _very_ observant."

"Who do you talk to here, anyway? I never see you with anyone."

"That's because I'm never _with _anyone."

"You haven't got friends?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't like me, and I don't like them." He looked like he was about to say more, but instead started to look in his bag for a different book.

"Oh. I'm sorry." she said, worried she might have stumbled onto a sensitive subject. The derisive snort flared up again - nostrils flaring, he looked almost horse-like for a moment.

"Don't be, they're all awful." She said nothing "Well look at them! They're all so dull and pointless and shallow. And all they talk about is nonsense like phone calls and trainers and _boyfriends_ and _girlfriends and… sex." The last word sounded awkward in his mouth. "They think things matter the world to them but give them two days and they don't even care any more, they just move on to some other nonsense." A small group walked past them, and she vaguely recognised one of the girls from a class earlier that morning. _

"_Only seat left was beside the freak, eh?" she said. He had quickly flopped his fringe in front of his eyes and returned to his book. _

"_He's alright actually" she called back, with a shrug. A few of the group cackled to each other. _

"_Finally found someone to put your dick in, Sherly?" they all laughed and wandered off. When she turned round he was still looking intently at his book with his face fully obscured, but the back of his neck had turned red. _

"_Sherly?" He started, the red flush flaming across his face too when he looked up. _

"_Huh? Oh, uh. short for… Sherlock." _

"_Hmm, nice name." he sniffed unappreciatively. _

"_Ignore them, by the way. I can't stand people who do stuff like that, they're cunts." For the first time, a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. She smiled back. _

"_I know." He said. Slamming her textbook shut, she said _

"_Right, I'm done. You have a free next?" "Nope." "Ah. Well, thanks for the Biology help. Bye, Sherlock!"_


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't see him very often after that, and when she did he was always on his own, usually hurrying past through the corridors towards the next chance to read his textbook, looking straight ahead to avoid making eye contact with people who might taunt him.

Eventually she found him again, one lunchtime nearly two weeks later, and once again he was sat alone, close to the window and far away from other people, nose buried in a textbook.

"Hi Sherlock" she said, sitting down opposite him. No response, but that wasn't surprising. "Chip?" she held out the greasy plastic tray towards him. He shook his head. She noted the lack of plates or napkins nest to him, and that the bin wasn't close enough for him to have thrown anything.

"Have you eaten anything this lunchtime?"

"Nope."

"Oh, if you're hungry I'll buy you something, you can pay me ba-"

"I'm not hungry, thank you. I don't eat at school."

"Oh, you bring stuff from home?"

"Nope."

"You eat when you get home?"

"Nope."

"Huh. Explains why you're so skinny, I suppose. That and the cigarettes."

"What?"

"You STINK of tabs."

"Oh." He sounded almost impressed that she'd noticed. They sat in silence for the next 5 minutes, until the bell rang.

"What've you got next lesson?"

"Nothing. You?"

"Same. You going down the shops?" He shook his head, and held up the textbook.

"That's all you ever do! Come on. I'll buy you a cup of tea, you don't even have to pay me back." He looked indecisive, until she reached over and folded the book on his hand - then he looked annoyed.

"Come oooooon. It's got to get boring eventually, reading all of that." He sighed, but put the book in his bag and stood up, grabbing his coat and scarf as he did so. He walked so quickly that she barely kept up with him, trotting behind as his long legs carried him almost at jogging pace. Silent and focused, he sped past everyone,. The lower-school students huddled together giggling when they saw him, one or two turning to shout back once they were at least two steps past him. The sixth-formers eyed him warily, or gave a sarcastic "alright, Sherly?" before grinning knowingly to each other.

Instead of taking the quicker route through the main building, he darted off intoi the driveway up from the main road, balancing on the thin curb to avoid any cars driving up towards the school. As soon as he was out of the paths of other students he seemed to relax, standing a little taller, his walking pace not quite so forcefully brisk, curled fringe pushed away from his eyes a bit more. He turned to collar of his coat down as she caught up with him, huddling together to avoid the cars that were passing them. On the winter's day in weak sunlight, and under the cover of the trees growing over the driveway she only saw his outline, as he rummaged in his bag to take out a cigarette and lighter. His face was then momentarily lit as he held the cigarette between his lips and the lighter to the end of the cigarette, thee smoke curling slowly away from his mouth. He held it out silently between two fingers, offering it to her.

"No, thanks" she said. He drew it back and took another drag. "So, what's with the science textbooks?"

"I want to be a detective." he said.

"Oh, cool. How come?"

"Only thing that's not boring." he said. "And I'm already better than most of the Police anyway." She raised an eyebrow, disbelieving, and as son as he noticed he turned on her. "You stayed up late last night watching a film, and as a result you slept in by 10 minutes this morning. You still caught the bus, but only just in time, and you left one of your textbooks and your homework that was due to be handed in today at home." The words we're fired off at 100mph, eyes darting between her face, hand and articles of her clothing that were probably telling him these things. "How many people do you know, Police Officers or not, who could tell you that today?"

"Well. Yeah ok." she said after a pause. "You are pretty good." She said. He smirked. "I don't know what I want to do." she said. He hadn't asked, but he nodded. "I can't think of anything interesting enough."

"There isn't anything. It's al so dull, really." he finished his cigarette, dropped it on the ground and stepped over it, flakes of ash sticking to his shoe.

"Hmm." she shrugged. He wasn't easy to make conversation with - every question was either answered in one word, orled to some angst speech about his worldview. She suspected he didn't have many people to tell these things to.

They walked in silence fro a minute or so, as he inhaled more smoke and expertly blew it out through his nostrils. Eventually the awkwardness of the silence outweighed her fear of setting him off on another arrogant rant, and she asked the typical question of first meetings with other sixth-formers. "So, what subjects do you take?"

"Biology, Chemistry, Maths and Physics- ugh"

"Why ugh?"

"It's so POINTLESS. Or at least so much of it is. I don't care about the behaviour of particles or how to calculate the sun's mass. I don't even care if the earth goes round the sun or not"

"Huh. I quite like physics-"

"I didn't ask." he snapped.

"I know, doesn't mean I can't tell you."

"Why do you keep telling me things about you?"

"Because you just told me all about you, so then I do the same. It's how conversations work, Sherlock."

"Ugh, how bo-"

"Boring?"

He gave a quiet "hmph." She contemplated telling him to fuck off, to grow a sense of humour and get off his high horse, and realise the world - or indeed, sun - didn't revolve around him. But she thought about the way he looked every time they passed another student, the straight-ahead glare followed by the red faced glance at the ground, the second where the cold eyes looked sad.

They walked in silence for the rest of the journey to the coffee shop - when they ended he said "team milk and two sugars" before she asked and immediately darted off upstairs to find a table. She wandered up 5 minutes later, carrying a tray with two cups of tea and a blueberry muffin, to find him sitting at the table with the comfiest chairs next to the window. His chin rested on the palm of his hand as he gazed listlessly out of the window, knuckles pressed against his hollow cheekbones, while the slim fingers of the other hand drummed rhythmically on the armrest. He smiled quickly at her as she handed him his tea, before passing a look of faint disgust at the muffin.

"You waft fome? She said, mouth full of blueberry.

"No." he said stiffly. She broke off half of it anyway, putting it back on the plate and sliding it across the table to him.

"I said no thank you."

"You said you didn't have lunch."

I also said I wasn't hungry."

"Well, what have you eaten today?" He thought for a moment, then said "Three cups of tea including this one, and two bites of an apple this morning."

"That's it? You must be starving."

"As I told you, I'm not at all." She looked at him for a moment.

"… You're not anorexic or something, are you?" His derogatory snort flared up again, rolling his eyes so hard she thought they'd disappear back into his head. "Just eat the muffin, you idiot. You'll make yourself ill."

Is gaze snapped up at the word "idiot", suddenly appalled to hear himself describe din such a way. He looked for a moment as though he was about to launch into some finely-calculated counter argument- but instead, he curled huffily into the chair away from her, snatching up the muffin begrudgingly as he did so. He took several bites that he seemed to think were causing him physical pain, casting her glances every now and again that she imagined were his way of saying "SEE?" or "FINE." while his mouth was full. Once finished, he rubbed the crumbs off his fingertips on a napkin, brushing off the few that had fallen onto his expensive-looking shirt. Crossing his legs rather awkwardly in the chair, he picked up his mug of tea and sipped delicately. His annoyance and her amusement still hung in the silence as they drank, but she had the feeling that, had he really been angry at her, he'd have stormed off firing insults at her long before now. She was even lucky to get a "Thanks for the tea" between his delicate slurps.

There were footsteps from the stairs, and she saw him tense up; as the loud voices of other teenagers carried up the stairs, he quickly adopted the position, hair flicked in front of as much of his face as possible, eyes down, shoulders forwards, trying to perform the impossible feat of curly his lanky 6-foot frame into a ball so small that he couldn't be noticed.

"Oh, hiiiiii Sherly!"

It hadn't worked. A girl she didn't recognise made her way across the room to their table, waving mockingly to Sherlock. "And You've got a friend!"

"Yes" he said quietly, not looking up.

"Wow, I'm impressed! What's help name?"

"I'm Laura." she said. "Hello."

"Hiii! He's just doing your homework for you, isn't he?"

"Pardon?"

"You're paying him and he's doing your homework, right? I mean, no one talks to him otherwise." She saw him glaring at her knuckles white around his teacup.

"Oh. No, actually. We're just talking." She smiled coldly, The other girl snorted.

"What about, then?"

"Oh y'know, just stuff. The stuff you usually talk about with your friends." The look of surprise that crossed Sherlock and the girl's face was almost identical. A chorus of gigging broke out from a table at the other side of the room. "speaking of which, I think your friends are over there." she said, flashing the cold smile again.

"Huh." said the other girl, promptly crossing the room to the other table.

Sherlock eyed her suspiciously, not quite sure what it meant that she'd referred to her as his "friend." She glanced at his teacup, noting that it was empty, and said "We should probably go." Draining her cup in one last gulp, the hot liquid stinging in her throat. "Come on. I've got stuff to get from the shops." She tossed his scarf to him from the floor, and he pulled on his coat following her out.


End file.
